November 14 – “Huh?”

I began listening to a teaching on a link Kel sent me the other day.  I don’t remember the guy’s name, but I made it through about half of the lesson before it got so faint that I couldn’t hear him anymore.  I’m not sure if the problem was computer related or a function of my hearing.  Probably the latter.  There was a lot of background noise at the time.  Here, not on the screen.  Kel’s kids were playing in the other room and I kept drifting off to focus on their games.  I no longer have the ability to comprehend numerous activities at once without all of them melding together into an unintelligible blob of sound.  I have to really focus on one thing at a time, and even then I often make some pretty strange judgments about what I seem to be hearing.  Honestly, a lot of times it would be easier to just retreat from the clatter into the quieter, but at least understandable reaches of my own mind. 

This whole loss of hearing thing has given me some fascinating insight into the world of the elderly who are going through the same thing.  People see them as out of touch, and in a sense they are, but not necessarily because they want to be.  It may just be that they are tired.  For them … OK, for us … the simple act of hearing, which should be an involuntary assumption, is instead a difficult chore that we must work hard at.  So if we appear distant or don’t respond as quickly as you think we should, please cut us some slack.  We may not have heard you at all, or more likely, we are still processing the myriad of sounds, trying our best to make sense out of them.  In my case it has made me feel more confident when I have written something down – hence the blogging.  I greatly prefer an interactive teaching style as a pastor, but I find it more and more difficult to hear the responses from the congregation, process them, and formulate a response.  As a result I spend more time in preparation, trying to anticipate what questions might come up and somehow include the answer in my presentation.  That’s why I type out my sermons as manuscripts now rather than just having a few notes. 

How can you help us hard of hearing folks out?  Make sure we can see your face when you talk.  Get our attention before you speak, by touching us if necessary.  A lot of our clues to the sounds we hear come from watching the shape of your mouth.  We may not be able to just read your lips with no sound at all, but when we combine the verbal and sight clues, we can probably do a pretty good job.  Oh, and please don’t be offended if we ask you to repeat something.  That often means we are getting closer.  We have heard some sounds and we are trying to fit them together into one of the many possibilities that would make sense based on who you are, how we are related, what we know about you, and the situation we are in right now.  And maybe we just need one or two more verbal clues to put us over the top.  See, when you break it all down, hearing is hard work.  Give us some extra time. 

Well, that was quite a rant.  All I planned to do was share some of the things I did hear that guy say, but I think I’ll wait for another time.  Thanks for being patient.

Psalms 54:2 says, “Hear my prayer, O God; listen to the words of my mouth.”

Father, I am so glad you always hear.  Thank you for the miracle that is hearing.  I do appreciate it.  Amen.